HAILEYANELA

Enough isn't enough if I'm not doing everything. I'm not enough. I'll never get past my sleep problems. I'll be happy when... I don't have time to... I hate my body. I'm not capable. Why me? Take a look at the story I was telling myself last year. I built an inaccurate and incomplete narrative about my life by committing myself to these self-destructive thoughts. These thoughts consumed me, and I let them. They   I  stunted my happiness by hyper-focusing on all of my so-called shortcomings and not ~truly~ feeling grateful for my life. Here's the thing, I'm alive and kicking and WAY too busy to spend any time on bad energy. It's a slow journey, but I'm committing myself to being more mindful and recognizing how my thoughts are framing my perspective and actions. Don't be like 2018 Hailey, you deserve more. Happy Valentine's Day from the girl working on self love.

Disclaimer: I don't garden. My gamgam was blessed with a thumb as green as an emerald, but I'm over here trying (and failing) to resuscitate my cacti. But that's not to say I don't love bringing home new plant babies to smother with love. (How often are you actually supposed to water succulents?) However, the focus of this post isn't my lack of gardening abilities, it's my friends. My friends are weeds. The ones with prickly leaves and thorny buds. The ones that sneak into the flowerbed without warning. They're the ones that never desist. The flowers are the ones that you need to worry about. They're colorful and inviting, but die at the first sign of hardship. They require constant care and consistent attention if you want them to thrive. Weeds creep into your life. They grow and perpetuate despite sometimes unideal circumstances. They're with you through it all. So, thank you to my weeds. Thanks for never giving up on me.

I was a mad woman, running around my apartment trying to pack my backpack while simultaneously jumping into my skinny jeans. This was going down as my bread was in the toaster. And in my frantic rush to bring order to my morning I realized that life is like a piece of toast. First, in toast and life, there’s a chance for missed moments. For those of you that eat toast know that there’s a very small window in which you can butter your toast, or the bread will cool down and the butter will refuse to melt and spread. In life, we are given astounding opportunities and blessings that we just have to reach for and grab. Some of these are only available for a short moment in time, and then they're gone. Lost to us, maybe forever. Just like the melted butter. Although my breakfast had been ruined that morning, I didn’t intend to give up on toast completely because of my butter blunder. I saw where I had failed and planned to use that knowledge to my advantage in future life and br...

Besides finding out that Luke is a really warm sleeper, I've learned two very important marriage and life-related lessons. 1. Marriage isn't transformative Whoever thought that marriage would suddenly turn you into the *best* version of yourself, is a fool (@ me). Saying "I do" over the altar isn't going to transform you into the person you've always dreamed of being. It hasn't turned me into a healthy eater, someone who exercises 5x a week or into a goal-achieving megastar. It's done quite the opposite. marriage has exposed all my flaws and shortcomings and left me vulnerable. It's peeled back the facade of "having it all together" and revealed that I'm MUCH more selfish and egotistical than I believed. Now more than ever, I'm keenly aware of the parts of myself that need a little bit more fine tuning. 2. Marriage is a TEAM effort Now that we've established my selfish tendencies, you can probably picture how diffi...

Today marks 10 years since my dad died, an entire decade gone in the blink of an eye. I felt the sadness would last forever alongside people's awkward and embarrassed apologies. Yet somewhere along the way the sorrow was replaced with nostalgia and then with reminiscence. So rather than mope over my inevitable loss I complied a list of the top 10 lessons I've learned in the last 10 years. 1. Life isn't all lemons or lemonade. It's in my lowest lows that I swear my life is cruel, that the Fates have it out for me and I'll never know happiness. It's a tart lemon sans sugar and I'm bitterly gritting my teeth. I've had to accept that not every lemon will bear lemonade, & THAT'S OKAY. Without those painful lows I'd never appreciate my greatest highs. Biting the lemon makes the lemonade sweeter. 2. Lonely & Alone Being alone doesn't directly translate to loneliness. Learn to be comfortable without the presence of othe...

SO PUMPED to be spending my fall in Europe, studying abroad and inhaling countless carbs. I'll be traveling with the BYU-I College of Business and Communication to "Experience Europe", network, and search for possible internships. *crossing all my fingers* Prepare yourself for the inevitable insta-overload coming to you September 2016. big thanks to @jakenning for persuading me to apply & Sister Bergstrom for believing that I'll be a (semi) valuable contributor whilst overseas. You guys ROCK. xoxo hails.

Being an adult is hard, and the transition from dependent adolescent to kinda-independent grown-up is one that doesn't come with a freaking handbook.

Here I am 15 days into the new year without a single goal set. There are the usual ones that I've sworn myself to upholding every year: eat healthy, work out more often, regulate my sleep schedule, act like an adult, blah blah blah. They're my go-to goals because, let's be honest, I didn't reach them the year before.

sometimes life gets really stressful really fast, the kind of stressful that has you counting down the hours until you can crawl back into bed. I feel like every time I cross one thing off my to-do list, three more things take its place, and the "catch-up game" is way too real. but sometimes you meet someone like robert.

I've been having growing pains. Not the physical ones, but the ones that are forcing me to stretch  beyond my bubble of familiarity. They're of the emotional sort; pushing me to adapt and become  accustomed to a paradoxical norm. Those pesky pains inflict a hollow, emotional ache that floods my  chest as I longingly look back at still-beating memories. Change and growth are inevitable but I  haven't quite learned how to appreciate the moment. That short moment where everyone is all smiles,  devoid of concern and blissfully unaware of the fact that the happiness will fade. People grow up and  grow apart, and that close-knit fellowship will cease to exist. But in that moment it's alive. It's pulsing  with an energy unseen, an energy that infuses inside jokes, pillow talks, and wordless looks. It's an  energy that dismally dims with time. Oh, but how I miss it. halloween '13. rileigh behind the lens.

You kinda have this idea of who you're going to be, and then things change and life gets in the way, and you're not the person you thought you'd be. Would you have been happier had you been "the idea of who you were going to be"? Or would you be in fact more miserable than you are as the person you turned out to be? I'd ask someone else, but misery doesn't  really love company.

I pride myself on being an optimist, a person who sees the glass half full. Most days. But sometimes I feel like there isn't a silver-lining to be found. All rain and no rainbow. Sure I could fake a smile, and I do some days, but it's never enough. I know that without the bad days we wouldn't have the good days, but bad days seem to last tooooooooooo long. So here are my three tips to turning that frown upside down. 1. List your thankfuls: a simple bulleted list of my countless blessings shows me just how well I have it. How many can boast the opportunity to attend a university at a subsided cost? Or a mother who supports them in ALL that they do? I even scribble down my gratitude for waking up to my alarm. 2.Turning outward: Do something for someone else. Write a note for a roommate. Braid a random girl's hair in the bathroom (true stuff). It doesn't have to be something massive, just meaningful. 3. Lose the 'tude: moping does nothing to help in the h...

At the start of every semester I swear to myself that I'll be on time to every class and always be prepared. Unfortunately that dream hasn't yet come to fruition. But with the help from my pretty Arvo watch, I'm crossing my fingers in hopes of improving my time-management skills. If you also suffer from being perpetually late to every event under the sun, know that you aren't alone dear friend.   But don't fret, because I've teamed up with Arvo to give you 15% off all Arvo products with my special discount code. So hurry over to snag yourself one before it's too late! lol discount code: ZCZMJTT   xoxo hails.

celebrating life without you With 4 years of (sometimes uncomfortable) dating under my belt, I feel the need to share with the literate world my experiences in the "minefield of love". In this week's diary entry you will find a brief and condensed history of boys I've been around, and my thoughts of who you shouldn't date. Let me be very clear when I say that I am in no way qualified to determine the strength of another's relationship. All advice presented before you comes from personal experience and should be read as such. So here goes nothing... Part One: Hailey's History With The Opposite Sex Awkward isn't a strong enough word to describe myself around boys throughout my teenage years; more specifically high school. I had a hard time trying to read boys and was (& still is) a chronic over-thinker. I read too far into insignificant gestures and assumed that with just the right amount of outfit-planning, I could score myself a boyfr...

If I were to swear on the Bible facing an audience of unfamiliar witnesses, I would attest to my character flaw of interpersonal expectations. My fanciful mind is utterly incapable of retaining lessons learned. It’s as if a wave of amnesia has swept away the memories of disappointment and disillusionment and left an empty canvas; ready to be repainted with a lesson that just refuses to adhere. I have a knack of throwing out chances to the undeserving; the ones that I know are sure to let me down. I can’t help it really. I am a deluded optimist at heart; earnestly wishing for change and improvement when I know none will come. I’m the kid with their fingers crossed, brow furrowed, and lip bitten; anxiously awaiting for things to go “my way”. My expectations aren’t grand in the slightest. They are usually centered on the forethought, or lack thereof, from others. Things that I assume to be common sense appear to have translated into intellect that far surpasses human courte...

I struggle with finding fun statement jewelry that is nickel-free and affordable. My skin is SO sensitive and will easily get inflamed due to the low-quality metal. I'm also not too fond of the sickly green tint left behind by cheaply produced pieces. But to find jewelry that comes straight from mother earth while still maintaining fashion-lovers' appeal? I'm sold. Leone Seeds  designs gorgeous jewelry and accessories 100% handmade in COLOMBIA with no plastic or artificial materials. Seriously how cool?! They reached out to see if I was interested, and I spent a solid day ogling their necklaces online. I'm guilty of sporting black almost everyday and figured some bright colors and prints would be a great way to give my closet a summer face-lift. The long blue set is made solely out of Tagua seeds that have been cut, shaved, and shaped (by hand!)  then dyed and assembled. I admit to swooning when I put on this turquoise dream. The laye...

c/o:  Sabrina Kellerman Photography I’m guilty of painting pretty pictures. Pictures of how I want my life to be viewed. I want crisp edges and smooth lines, not a defect in sight. A clear and in-focus image that everyone can praise, and my mother can be proud of. A picture that can garner Facebook “likes” and Twitter “retweets”; an image that attains the coveted “Life Goals” hash tag. Because who doesn’t want a life that can be applauded and placed front-and-center on the mantel of self-esteem? As a side effect of this deceptive exhibit of life, is the mass of people that assume they know exactly how you feel simply based off the carefully edited Instagram post. They surmise that the smile means happiness and contentment, and the success equals satisfaction and self-fulfillment. They believe the best, because the best is all that they can see. They view the performance from the front row, completely oblivious to the stress backstage behind the curtain. My frustration ...

There is strength in everything. Every action, thought, and word holds a well of power that is weightier than we can comprehend.   A naked word is nothing but a string of letters; but words stitched together with intent and purpose hold potential. They hold the potential to lift heavy hearts, to fortify crumbling character, to furnish the flame of faith, and possess the potential to empower beyond belief. We have the capacity to lead others towards a life of light, and knowledge of the value of their existence. We are literally capable of changing lives for the better.   And yet, the words may be turned in on themselves, maliciously shredded to the bone and cruelly corrupted. The brutal punch a foul phrase packs leaves a deeper impression than that of an empathetic expression. They’ve been used to dissect with disgust, criticize in contempt, to tease and taunt, and to brazenly beat down. Shamelessly and without thought they are dirtied for the sake of “speaking t...

Daniel is in no way deceptive, he just has a knack for making people look exponentially better. And in this case he made me look like a fully functioning adult in society whose life is in order, and that children, is the lie. With the passing of my 20th birthday I've come to terms with a few things: 1. I am two decades old, which is the same thing as ONE FIFTH OF A CENTURY, which is old. 2. I am no longer a teenager so I need to cut back on my allotted shenanigans.  3. I don't actually have be a boring grown up. I reject the notion that adulthood means conforming to bounds of routine and formalities. I shan't be shackled to society's ideas of maturity!...but seriously I'm typing this in polka dot stretchy pants and a slouchy tee with a sleepy french bull dog plastered on the front, whilst lounging on my child-sized froggy pillow seat.  I will continue to eat frozen gogurt for breakfast alongside my chocolate milk c...

It's been roughly 2 months since my last blogging endeavor. A break, a sabbatical, a leave of absence; whatever you wanna call it, I was on it. It wasn't something that had any forethought or planning, it came naturally and of it's own accord. I had become so busy with school, my frantic job search (that proved rewarding), my sister's pending nuptials, & all the other little things that seem to weasel their way into my life. Unconsciously I began to loosen the reins on my sweet site, and now 8 weeks later, I'm oh so glad I did. I'm going to be so bold as to say that I think blogging is a talent of mine, albeit mediocre. But talents, no matter big or small, are detrimental in our discovery of ourselves. Talents are to be nursed and nurtured so that they may be developed and strengthened, but there is a fragile balance that demands to be had. To obsess and nitpick over every detail of that talent causes for feelings of insignificance and worthlessness, bo...